


Fixing to Die

by Polarstern (Gelaecter)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: (additional tags and warnings may appear), F/M, M/M, everyone dies and it's sad, then everyone comes back and it's still sad, tragic zombies AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:01:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1894854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gelaecter/pseuds/Polarstern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 years after the Rising, those lost begin to return home</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fixing to Die

**Author's Note:**

> In The Flesh AU, written as part of the APH fanfic event week on tumblr
> 
> Mathias - Denmark  
> Willem - Netherlands  
> João - Portugal

Everything about him looked wrong.

Ludwig wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. The scars he’d expected, he’d already seen those. The mousse they’d given him was the same they gave everyone, designed to make him look like a normal, living person. But his brother had never looked like that - He’d always been pale, shockingly pale even. Pale enough that even the awful grey colour that was hidden underneath would have been closer to the truth.

But worse than that where his eyes. Ludwig remembered his brother’s eyes the last time he’d seen them - that pale reddish colour, which belonged to him alone, so full of rage as he’d stormed out of the house for the last time. The contacts they’d given him were blue.

Of course, Ludwig knew he didn’t look the same either. Five years had taken their toll; he was leaner than he’d been before, older and not without his own scars. Gilbert looked just as bewildered as Ludwig felt, eyes darting between his eyes and the long-healed gash across his jaw.

Neither of them said anything for a long time.

Finally, Ludwig cleared his throat. “Hello, Gilbert.”

Gilbert blinked at him a few times, before his whole body twitched and he gave Ludwig a faint smile. “You look good, Ludwig.”

“So do you.”

Gilbert scoffed loudly. “Oh please. I look _ridiculous_. Did you ever think you’d see me wearing make-up? If only Francis could-”

Ludwig grabbed him a pulled him into a tight hug, cutting him off.

“I’m sorry Gilbert,” he said, burying his face against his brother’s neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t,” Gilbert replied, wrapping his arms around him, “Don’t, Ludwig. It’s okay.”

Ludwig shook his head slightly but didn’t respond. He sniffed loudly, and after a few more moments he pulled back, eyes watery. Gilbert just looked at him sadly with those wrong-coloured eyes.

“The, uh, the doctors have already been through everything so… we can go home now if… if that’s what you want.”

“Yeah,” Gilbert replied “I do. Please.”

It wasn’t until they’d driven out and the treatment centre was just a speck in the distance that Gilbert spoke again.

“So. Where is home these days?”

Ludwig was silent for a moment. “Moved in with Rod and Erzsi after… that night. There’s a room spare still, so you coming to stay won’t be a problem.”

“Oh those two are still kicking, are they?” Gilbert grinned. “What they say when you told them I was coming?” Ludwig said nothing, and Gilbert raised an eyebrow. “...You didn’t tell them, did you?”

“Didn’t know how to bring it up,” Ludwig murmured, “They’re out of town for a few days anyway.”

“Probably better this way.” His grin got even wider. “Can’t wait to see the look on Spec’s face when he sees me. Might even give him a heart attack.”

There was a pause, and then suddenly Ludwig started laughing. It wasn’t nice laughter, it was loud and sharp like broken glass, but Gilbert joined in and soon the two of them were howling so uncontrollably that Ludwig had to pull over, tears running down his face as.

“I missed you, Gilbert,” he said, once he got control of himself. “I missed you so much.”

“Of course you did,” Gilbert replied, “How did you even survive out there without me?” Ludwig just huffed and restarted the car.

Ludwig had seen a lot in the past five years. He’d lost so many people, both the year before the rising and after, but if he could just have this, his brother, back from the dead, then maybe. Maybe everything that had happened was worth it.

\---

“Well, well, well, of all the people I’d expected to see waiting for me on the other side of those doors I can honestly say you weren’t high on my list. Miss me that badly did you?”

Arthur scowled. “Don’t flatter yourself. I only came because nobody else would.”

Francis laughed. “I did miss your honesty, Arthur.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Let’s get out of here,” Arthur said with a sniff, “You can stay at mine for a few days until you find somewhere else.”

“Very generous of you.”

“I hear Ludwig was here picking up Gilbert this morning, so maybe the two of you can-”

“Gilbert?” Francis froze, brows furrowed.

“Oh right, you probably wouldn’t have heard,” Arthur said, pausing for a moment before walking again. Francis sighed and followed him. “Happened a few months after you, well, croaked.”

“What happened?”

“Accident. It was wet out, and he came off the road. Always said that car of his would be the death of him…” He laughed humourlessly.

Francis was silent for a moment. “Have you heard… nevermind.”

“Hm?” Arthur frowned at him, but then his gaze turned pitying and he shook his head. “No, I haven’t. His brother hasn’t said anything, but then I’m not sure he’d tell me anyway.” Francis nodded, looking away.

They made the rest of the journey to the car in silence, throwing Francis’ meagre belongings into the back and climbing in. Neither of them moved or said anything for a long moment, and just as Francis was about to ask if they were leaving or not Arthur spoke;

“I’m not going to ask you why,” he said slowly, eyes fixed straight ahead, “Christ, your reasons were clear enough.”

“Arthur.”

“But it was fucking _stupid_ , okay?” He turned, glaring. “Do you think _he_ would have wanted you to be so careless?”

“How _dare_ you,” Francis said in a low voice, eyes flashing. “How dare you presume to know what he would want.”

“He would be furious and you know it!”

“He wasn’t there! He was _gone_ , and you can’t possibly know how I-”

“You weren’t the only one who cared about him!” Arthur snarled, slamming his palm down on the steering wheel. “I lost so many friends that year, including him. Including Gilbert, and Matthias, and you, you tremendous arse.” He made a choked noise and looked away. “But you weren’t thinking about any of that, were you.”

There was a long silence, broken only by Arthur’s soft gasps.

“Just drive, Arthur.”

\---

For the first time in 5 years, Ludwig woke to bustling in the kitchen and the smell of pancakes drifting through the flat. He tensed, frowning in confusion, and pulled himself out of bed, throwing on a jumper and walking slowly down the hallway.

He paused outside the kitchen and poked his head in, careful not to make a noise.

Gilbert was whistling softly as he worked, arranging the pancakes carefully on the plate. There were sausages and toast ready on the table, and fresh juice. Ludwig felt his throat tighten at the familiar sight. Then Gilbert turned around and smiled at him, naked eyed and face free of mousse, and Ludwig almost couldn’t take it. He barely hid a flinch, and it was a relief when he turned away again a second later so Ludwig could collect himself.

“Thought I’d have to come up and wake you,” Gilbert said brightly, sliding the pancakes onto the table and taking a step back, looking at Ludwig again uncertainly. “Thought I’d make you breakfast like I used to - I mean, I’m a bit rusty, but...”

Ludwig let out a breath and smiled reassuringly. “Thank you, I’m sure it’s just as good.” He slid into the seat and looked at the plate. He wasn’t the least bit hungry.

“Aren’t you having any?” he said, noticing Gilbert hadn’t put out a plate for himself. Gilbert just gave him a pitying look, and Ludwig felt his face heat up. “Oh… Of course…”

He took a bite, and Gilbert leaned forward hopefully. He smiled and nodded, taking another bite, and Gilbert grinned before turning away and beginning the dishes. The smile slid from Ludwig’s face, and he reached for the juice to wash the rest down.

His brother was an amazing cook, and the food was as delicious as it had always been. It wasn’t Gilbert’s fault that every bite made his stomach turn.

“You still working for the council?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. I’m an aid for the MP of Croydon North now.”

“Ooh, look at you.” He twisted around and winked at him. “Moving up in the world.”

Ludwig snorted. “What about you? What do you plan to do now you’re back?”

“Hmm, I dunno Lud. Can’t exactly go back to my old job, can I?”

“The hospital’s are still really short staffed, I’m sure they’d-”

“They wouldn’t hire me no matter how short staffed they are.” Ludwig said nothing. “Hey, maybe I can get some shifts down at the pub. Does Matthias still run that place on the corner?”

“Berwald does now.”

“Oh. Well, might head down there later anyway.” He stacked the last of the dishes and shook his hands dry. He turned and raised an eyebrow at the barely touched food. “Not hungry?”

“Not used to eating a big breakfast any more, I guess.” Which was true, Erzsébet was usually gone long before anyone else woke up, and Roderick… well, he was an excellent baker, but anything else was just a disaster. He usually made do with a piece of toast and some coffee.

Gilbert snorted. “Well, get used to it Brüderlein, I’ve got a few years to make up for.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Oh shush, it’s the least I can do for leaving you alone for so long.” His smile wavered. “Do you have to be at work today?”

“I told them I’d be in later this morning.” Gilbert made a face. “We’re pretty busy with the election coming up, I couldn’t take another day. I’m sorry.”

“‘S fine, Ludwig. I understand.” He crossed his arms. “I’ll be fine on my own for a bit.”

Ludwig hesitated before standing up and clearing his throat. “I should… go get ready, I suppose.”

Gilbert nodded and began clearing the barely touched food from the table. Ludwig retreated from the room without another word.

\---

The Longboat was mostly empty when Gilbert arrived, shortly after dinner. Ludwig had retreated to his room almost as soon as he’d arrived home, claiming he had paperwork to do for tomorrow, so he’d made his way over alone. An elderly couple by the fire turned and stared at him; he bared his teeth and they flinched, the woman giving a soft cry of alarm, and he laughed and turned away from them.

He hadn’t bothered with either the mousse or the contacts, he wasn’t going to hide what he was to make strangers happy. They would just have to get used to it.

The pub was mostly the same as he remembered it - though a bit emptier than it had ever been at this time of evening. Maybe most of the patrons were dead now, or perhaps it had something to do with the sign by the door that simply said “PDS WELCOME”. Other than that, it was eerily similar.

He approached the bar and rang the bell, glancing around for the owner. He’d never known Berwald very well, and he’d only seen him behind the bar a handful of times when Matthias had broken his leg in a bike accident, but it would still be nice to see a familiar face.

The face that appeared out of the storeroom was not the one he was expecting.

“Gilbert? Is that you?”

“Mathias, you bastard! Thought you must have died when I heard your brother was running this place now, what’s going on?”

Mathias grinned at him. “I did, man! Got done in a week before the Rising, if you’ll believe it. Not sure if that makes me lucky, or…” He shrugged. “Was wondering if I’d see you around, when’d you get back?”

“Yesterday, you been out long?”

“‘Bout two weeks.” He indicated for Gilbert to sit down. “I can offer you a drink if you want, but you’ll be cleaning up the mess later if you do.”

“Please don’t,” said another voice. Gilbert turned and raised an eyebrow at the newcomer. “I think you’ve made enough messes for both your lifetimes.”

“Good to see you to, Willem,” Gilbert said, tossing his cousin a wry grin. Willem clapped him on the shoulder, not even blinking at his appearance.

“Welcome back. Get me a pint of Grolsch, would you?”

“Get it yourself,” Mathias replied. Willem snorted and headed around the bar.

“You staying with your brother?” Mathias asked, ignoring Willem when he shoved him out of the way of the tap.

“Yeah, course I am. Well, him, Erzsi and _Roderick_.” Gilbert made a face.

Matthias laughed. “Well there’s a room spare upstairs if you need to get away at all. Although if you do Berwald’ll probably make you, y’know.” He gestured at his own face. “Cover up. Don’t want to scare people, after all.” Gilbert snorted loudly.

“So what happened anyway? You get drunk and fall of the roof or something?”

“Ah, you know,” Mathias replied, mouth twisting slightly. “Tried to break up the wrong argument, ended up with a stomach full of glass.” He gestured to the wall near the door, where there was an obvious dark stain on the plaster.

Gilbert winced. “Yikes, man.”

Mathias shrugged. “Could have been worse I guess - could have happened a week later! What’s a little blood for eternal life?” He laughed, and Willem scowled at him.

“It’s not funny when you’re the one cleaning it up.”

“It’s pretty funny. _Dead funny,_ even.”

Gilbert coughed, and Willem opened his mouth to retort but then froze, eyes on the door. Gilbert was off his stool in a second when he saw who’d walked in, pinning the man up against the wall with a snarl.

“ _You motherfucker_ ,” he said after a moment. “I don’t know whether to punch you or kiss you.”

Francis looked alarmed for a moment, before relaxing. “I missed you too, Gilbert.”

“Whatever, asshole,” Gilbert replied, releasing him and walking back to the bar. Francis followed.

“Arthur told me you got back yesterday? I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Eh?” Gilbert raised an eyebrow. “You’re staying with Eyebrows, are you? Have fun with that.”

Francis’ mouth twisted in distaste. “It’s not ideal.”

“So what are you doing here, if not seeking my presence?”

“I was actually going to enquire about accommodations,” he said with a sniff, “Nothing in the area seems willing to-”

“No.”

They both turned and stared at Willem, who was looking at Francis with a troubled expression.

“I thought you said you had…” Gilbert began, trailing off when he noticed Mathias shaking his head at him.

“I think you should leave. Now,” Willem continued. Francis frowned, confusion clear on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, slowly, “Have I offended you somehow?”

Willem shook his head. “João is due back any minute.”

Francis looked pained. “Ah. Then yes, I won’t stay.”

He turned and walked slowly out of the pub. Gilbert sighed and then yelled after him.

“Hang on frenchie, I’ll walk with you.”

He stood and jogged out with a quick wave to the other men.

It was a clear night outside. If Gilbert could still feel, he was sure he’d be freezing, but as it were the weather made no difference to him. Francis was standing on the curb, waiting.

“I’m at Erzsi’s, it’s the same direction.”

Francis nodded, and the two of them walked in silence. Every so often Francis would open his mouth to say something, but then close it and continue on. It was Gilbert who finally stopped, gazing across the street towards the perfect view of the city, Francis continuing on for a few steps before realising he wasn’t following and looked back questioningly.

“Antonio always said this was the best view of London.”

Francis tensed. “He did. He was right.”

“Is.” Gilbert turned to look at him. “He’ll be back too, I have a feeling.”

“I’m not sure if that will be better or worse.”

Gilbert frowned at him, then turned away.

“João still blames you.”

“Seems so.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Blame you.”

“Yes,” he said honestly.

Gilbert sighed. “I don’t, if that makes you feel better.”

Francis smiled. “Strangely, no.”

“Aww, come on Francis.” Gilbert threw an arm around his shoulder. “Let’s forget this business. I saw a bottle of cheap red in the kitchen we can pretend to drink and have a chat about old times, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds… wonderful.”

\---

Willem leant against the wall, silent, and watched the other man pace the kitchen wildly. João had been agitated when he’d arrived, still in his work uniform, blowing through the pub and up the stairs into the common room without even a wave - thankfully none of the other tenants were around, so when Willem followed him up the two of them were alone. João paced, chewing at his nail and muttering - anxiety, anger maybe. He was hard for Willem to read these days, a thought that always left him with a pang of regret.

Eventually he slowed his pacing and sat at the table, rubbing his face. Neither of them said anything for a long time.

“I saw Gilbert downstairs earlier,” Willem said, finally, “Francis too.”

João’s mouth twisted, but he stayed silent.

“More are coming back every day it seems.”

“I got a phonecall today,” João said suddenly. Willem paused. “I’m going out to Norfolk tomorrow morning.”

“Why?” Willem asked, pointlessly.

João looked at him, an odd, vacant look in his eyes.

“I have to pick up my brother.”


End file.
